His Return
by Chris Arin
Summary: What happens when Harry returns after having been gone for seven years? What has changed in Hermione's life?


Tick…tock…

The grandfather clock standing in the far corner of the room counted down the seconds. It was the only sound throughout the entire house. A stillness lay over each room, creating a peaceful atmosphere. The fireplace set in the wall sat blackened and lifeless. There was no movement, no disruption, except for the clock's incessant ticking and the mesmerizing swing of its pendulum. The front door opened, breaking the silence, and in stepped a young woman with chocolate brown eyes. She also had long, curly brown hair that at the moment was put up in a messy bun, strands of hair sticking out here and there. Her light gray suit was rumpled and as soon as she stepped inside her home, the blue heels she wore that day were kicked off, left to watch over the door as it closed behind her.

She made her way to the bathroom, throwing off her clothes as she went. Stepping into the shower and turning it on, she let the hot water run down her body, relaxing her muscles. As the steam rose up around her, fogging up the mirror outside her momentary confinement, she thought of the man she loved. The Final Battle had only been seven years ago, but those seven years had felt like an eternity to her. That night, Voldemort had been killed, and celebrations arose all around the wizarding world to celebrate the incredible victory. Not everyone celebrated, however; as soon as Voldemort fell, his mortal enemy and murderer, Harry Potter, disappeared. No one had seen nor heard from him since that night and now, as the water cascaded down her body, Hermione Granger wondered where in the hell he could be. He had missed so much these past seven years, including the death of their best friend, Ronald Weasley.

Oh, Ronald, the gangly redhead that stole her heart the last few years the trio was at Hogwarts. He was loyal and sweet, but damn, he could be such an insufferable git sometimes. "I guess that's why I fancied him," she said to herself as she lathered shampoo in her hair. He was the lovable git of a sidekick and she was the nosy bookworm; he was loyal, though a bit thick at times, and she was smart and often judgmental and quick tempered. Almost total opposites, but people always say opposites attract. In the end, however, that romance ended, both sides agreeing that they were better off as friends. This is when she realized that as much as she fancied the red head, her heart was always attached to her raven haired best friend.

The day after the Final Battle, she sat in her home, waiting for the man she loved to return. She sat there on her couch day in and day out, never leaving her house for anything. Her mood gradually worsened, depression creeping up on her and devouring her in its blackened jaws. Her friends all stopped by to check up on her, but every time the doorbell rang, she ignored it. By the second week of her sulking, she was finally running out of food in her kitchen and the realization that her Love was gone finally hit her. She lay down on the couch and cried through the night. The next day, she flooed Ron and asked him to come over. He immediately obliged, stepping out of her fireplace, black soot falling on her beige carpet, and walked over to the couch, taking her in his embrace. They both cried that day for their lost friend and hero, Ron occasionally giving her words of encouragement to help her get through the day. He left that night after she fell asleep, deciding to take a walk through the city, rather than take the floo network back to his flat, to think about everything that happened. It was that decision that cost Ronald Weasley his life. A drunk driver veered way too fast around a corner, lost control of his SUV, and rolled the large vehicle. Ron had no time to react; the SUV hit him and rolled over him, killing him on impact.

When Hermione found out about the fatal accident the next day, a fresh torrent of tears fell from her eyes. Her depression worsened even more and constant thoughts of suicide filled her mind for the next couple months. Often she would sit on her couch, staring at the loaded handgun sitting on the coffee table in front her. Occasionally her hand would reach out, intending to end her own life, but every time she resisted the wonderful temptation. Life seemed like a joke to the then eighteen year old Hermione Granger, and she had no intent on living it any longer.

Stepping out of the shower, she pulled the towel off the towel rack and dried herself off. Being that she was home alone, she had no problem in walking stark naked back to her bedroom where she put on a comfortable set of red pajamas. Grabbing a random book off her bookshelf, she strode out to the living room, practically fell onto the couch, adjusted herself so she was comfortable, and began to read.

* * *

A small _POP!_ resounded through the alley as the sun was slowly making its way behind the earth. A stray beagle that happened to be searching for food jumped into alert mode. As soon as he saw the long haired, shadowy figure that had just appeared literally out of thin air, he ran to look for a new, safer place to find his dinner. The young man that stood there looked up, his piercing green eyes scanning the dark alleyway around him. Taking a couple strides forward, he walked out into the meager light of a street lamp that had just turned on for the evening. His neck-length black hair and the brown leather jacket, black t-shirt, blue jeans, and trainers he wore were all illuminated to be seen by the world. He hated the world, or at least the people that inhabited it. His whole life since that fateful night, he had been running from them, determined to stay away from them. All he wanted was some peace in his life. Now he was doing the one thing that would bring him the total opposite of peace. He had hurt her immensely, he knew, but he had to see her again. He didn't care if she yelled and screamed at him, threw something at him, or even physically attacked him; no doubt he deserved it all anyway. All he wanted was to see her again, for that would make the world just a little bit better.

With a purposeful stride, he walked across the street and up to her doorstep. Mustering up all the courage he had, he raised his fist to knock on the door, but hesitated. Many thoughts and scenarios rushed through his head. What will she do? Will she scream at him? Slam the door in his face? Both? He finally chose to ignore the thoughts in his head and just hope that the luck that had got him through the torture that was his life would help through this, too. He knocked on the door, three sounds that reverberated through his head, almost a torture in themselves. He thought of running, but it was too late now, he would have to face her right here and right now. Five seconds later, she opened the door.

* * *

_Mark walked slowly down the hall, the screams of his now dead wife still echoing in his mind. He could hear the high pitched laughter of the demented little boy through the door just down the hall. The hall seemed to close in on him with every step that he took towards that god damn door. The gun in his right hand and his index finger on the trigger, he took a final step up to the door, grasped the door handle firmly with his free hand, twisted it and pulled..._

*knock, knock, knock*

"Oh, hell, I'm always interrupted at the good parts." Hermione grumbled to herself as she sat up on the couch that she had been so comfortably laying on, placed a bookmark on her page, then stood up and walked to the door.

"This had better be good," she growled to herself as she yanked the door open. Of all the people she expected it to be, she never would have guessed it would be this man. Her jaw dropped as she looked upon the scarred face of a man she had not seen for seven years. Those emerald green eyes of his still held the sparkle she knew so well, but they held something else too, though she couldn't figure out what.

"Harry?" She didn't have to ask him, she knew from those eyes, the eyes she loved, the eyes she could get lost in so easily.

"Yes, it's me." His voice was gruff but he spoke with a gentleness that, had it been from any other man's mouth who looked as Harry did now, would be totally unexpected. But Hermione knew better, for she had known him her entire life and that gentleness, that caring nature of his, it was just another reason she had fallen in love with him.

The initial shock wore off and she snapped.

"What the HELL were you thinking? You killed the worst wizard in the world, and then just LEFT US? You never even bothered to say goodbye, to ANYONE! You disappeared for seven years, Harry, SEVEN! Everyone I talked to thinks you're dead. I was the only one to hold on to some hope that you were still alive. Now here you are, standing at my doorstep, and you expect me to forgive you for everything you've done, all the pain you've caused me?"

Despite the sadness he felt, a small smile formed on his face as she continued to rant and rave at him. She was still the little hothead that he knew and loved from their school days.

"What are you smirking about? Do you realize how much grief you caused not only me, but everyone else as well?" Her face was red with anger and excitement, a sight that he thought was cuter than any other, save for whenever she was thinking intently about something and bit her bottom lip.

"It's just that I still love that temper of yours, even after all these years." He smiled a very loving and even a little bit of a cheeky smile. This did nothing to lower her temper, but it did manage to get her to stop yelling.

"Oh, shut up and get in here." With a grumpy look on her face, she turned around and walked back into the living room, plopping down on the couch. Harry followed her, hanging his jacket on the rack next to the door, then into the living room where he sat down on the other end of the couch. "It's been seven years, Harry. You've changed so much and have missed so much…"

"I'm not surprised. You've changed a lot, too, Hermione." He looked her up and down, smiling when he saw the small smile forming on her lips.

"Harry, you haven't changed one bit, personality wise. Still a total charmer, aren't you?" She smiled brightly and jumped on him, hugging him tightly. He hugged her back just as tightly, and when she backed away and sat back down, he was wearing the biggest grin she had ever seen him wear. "I've missed you, Harry."

"I've missed you, too, Hermione." His grin disappeared, replaced by a look of sadness. Her face mimicked his.

"Why did you leave? What was going through your mind to make you come to that decision?"

"I don't know Hermione, I truly don't. It was spur of the moment and for whatever reason, it sounded like a good decision at the time. It was dumb and pointless, I know that. I'm sorry and I regret it. I figured you and Ron and Ginny and everyone else would forgive me when I came back, and now I am back." The frown on his face gradually grew as he spoke, but as those last few words left his lips, a hopeful expression took over.

Hermione only frowned at him. "You're right, that was a dumb and pointless decision. Quite stupid, too. You left all your friends and family behind with a horrid sense of loss in their hearts, mine especially. Do you know how much pain you have put me through?" Harry shook his head, the frown now back on his face. "A lot, Harry. More than you can imagine. Losing you was like losing a piece of myself. I know that sounds horribly cliché, but that's what it truly felt like. I was depressed; I rarely ever ate. Ron was over almost every night to comfort me and then one night, after he left my house, I lost him, too." Harry stared at her, confused. What had happened to their best friend? Had he not been able to cope with the loss and run away himself? Harry did not have to voice his question; Hermione saw the confusion on his face. "Ron died, Harry. He died only a few months after the Final Battle and you missed it. The loss of him threw me into the worst depression. Sometimes I'd be sitting here on this very couch with a revolver sitting there on that table intent on ending my own life." She pointed to the glass table in front of them, which Harry stared at with horror and disgust.

All this information tore at his heart. Had he really caused this much turmoil in her life? Ron had comforted her at least, but if he hadn't left, Ron wouldn't have had to comfort her, so then Ron would still be alive. His decision had cost Ron his life and almost Hermione's as well. He became distraught and tears started to form in his eyes. Anger at himself started to show through his shaking hands and scrunched up face. "All this is my fault. None of this should've happened. I'm such an idiot." A single tear rolled down his face.

Hermione immediately shifted into her caring mood, almost like a motherly instinct. She slid over and wrapped an arm around his shoulders and used her other hand to grasp his. His head fell on her shoulder. "Harry, please, don't blame yourself for all this. Yes, you upset me very much when you left, but I'm still alive and perfectly fine today. Ron's death was not your fault either. It was simply a matter of him being in the wrong place at the wrong time. You are a great person, Harry. Everything bad that has happened in your life has only made you better. You've learned from every experience and I admire you for that, anyone who knows you should admire you for that. Please, just don't do anything stupid like you used to in our school days." He chuckled lightly and half a smile formed on his lips at the truthfulness of her last statement. She always could make him smile, no matter how he felt or what mood he was in. She hugged him tightly, then stood up.

"I think we need something to change the mood, its way too somber. How about some red wine?"

"Sounds great, 'Mione." He sat up and pulled off his shoes. "Do you mind if stay for a while?"

"On two conditions."

He arched his brow in a quizzical look. "And those two conditions are…?"

She smiled at him, something he never failed to think made her look absolutely beautiful. "One, you have to help me finish off this bottle of wine. Two, NEVER call me that name again." Harry laughed as Hermione disappeared into the kitchen.

* * *

Hermione walked up to her granite counter, opened one of the white wooden cabinets above her, and pulled out a bottle of red wine that was already about a quarter of the way empty. She held it up for a moment, staring at it. She had not touched this stuff since her bout with depression ended a few months ago. At that time, though, she had gone through at least a whole bottle every day.

She set the bottle down on the counter, then opened up another cupboard, pulling out two wine glasses. Holding these between her fingers on one hand, she picked up the wine bottle with her other hand and walked back out, setting the bottle and glasses down on the glass table top. Pouring a respectable amount for the both of them, she picked up her glass, Harry doing the same with his, and raised it.

"To long lost friends, and the beginning of a new life!" she said. Her glass clinked against his and, bringing it to her lips, she drained the whole thing, setting it back down on the table. Harry took a short drink from his and set it down on the table next to hers. Hermione filled her glass back up.

An hour and ten glasses of wine between them later, a majority of them being Hermione's, she was now laying comfortably between his legs, her head resting on his chest. Harry's arms were wrapped around her. She closed her eyes and sighed.

"Harry, what happened between you and Ginny? I could tell you didn't really fancy her all that much and she was only dating you because you were the Boy Who Lived. So what was that 'relationship' really?" Hermione looked up at him.

Harry cleared his throat, his mind shooting back to their Hogwarts days. What HAD that been? Just a quick resolution to the raging hormones? Had there ever been feelings between the two of them?

"I truly do not know, Hermione," Harry said. "If it was anything, it was just our hormones taking over I guess. All we really did was hang out or snog. I doubt there were ever really any feelings in the first place. Like you said, she dated me because I was famous and I guess I was just in it for the sake of being in a relationship."

Harry had been staring off into space as he confessed this. Hermione stared into his eyes. He was handsome and the greatest bloke she had ever met. It was amazing she had not realized she loved him even while they were at Hogwarts.

"Well, no matter," she said shortly. "I have you and you have me and that's all the matters, isn't it?" Harry nodded.

"What about you and Ron?"

Hermione was a bit taken aback by this question. Her mind lingered back to their days at Hogwarts as well.

"I guess we were just hormone fueled teenagers. Sure, we fancied each other, but we were way too different to make any romantic relationship work between us. That old cliché 'opposites attract' surely didn't apply there, huh?" The two of them chuckled.

"I guess you're right, Hermione, but then, when are you ever wrong?" Harry earned a playful slap on the arm with that comment. He merely laughed at his own jibe.

"You are such a jerk sometimes." Hermione smiled at him.

"And you, Miss Granger, are an insufferable know-it-all who I happen to love quite dearly." A smile spread across his face as he said this. Hermione giggled.

"I love you, too, Harry."

The two of them laid there for a little while longer, simply enjoying the others company. It had been too long since they were first separated and there were so many bottled up feelings that were now coming out in their every word and action. Hermione, after about half an hour, was the first to break the silence.

"I've always felt safest when I'm in your arms, Harry." Shifting a bit, she snuggled into him. A small, adoring smile spread across his face.

"You know you always are safest in my arms. I will make sure that from today on, I will not leave you unprotected. Call on me anytime and I'll be here immediately." He kissed the top of her head. Hermione grinned happily as her eyes started to drift closed. He did always know the right thing to say at the right time to make her happiest.

"I never want you to leave, Harry."

"I may be gone physically, but inside your heart and mind, I never will."

He hugged her tightly and whispered into her ear, his breath tickling her slightly. "I love you, Hermione."

"I love you, too, Harry." Her eyes finally closed completely as she let sleep over come her. Her body relaxed and her breathing took on a steady rhythm, her chest rising and falling slowly. Harry stared at her sleeping form, amazed at how beautiful she had become, and hugged her one last time before leaning his own head back and closing his eyes. The two of them knew they could never be happier than they were at this moment. Harry kept his arms wrapped around her as he drifted off into his own sleep. No matter how bad their lives had been before this night, it did not even come close to how wonderful their lives would be.


End file.
